New Girl In Baker Street
by AllThatIWant
Summary: When AJ asks an old family friend if she knows anyone looking for a flatshare Sherlock Holmes was not what she bargained for. Contains self-harm and adult language hence the T rating.
1. The detective and the Pianist

**A/N: So this is my first Sherlock fic and as much as I love and ship Johnlock this isn't a Johnlock fic. Please please let me know what you think, especially of my OC Amelia-Jay and whether I got Sherlock right, constructive criticism is always welcome as long as you're nice about it. This literally did come to me in a dream then I made it a little more sane. Could you please tell me if I should go into the cases in series 2 or make this post-fall I can't decide and I have some stuff half written either way. Contains self-harm so if you dont like dont read. As regards to my other fic, it may be on hold for a while as I am really not sure what to write. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than AJ, she's mine. But the rest belongs to someone who isn't sat on their but eating Dorito's when they should be doing other more productive things, or maybe it does but that someone isn't this someone. **

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: The detective and the pianist

Bright sunlight stung her eyes, the flimsy white curtains in the cheap hotel doing nothing to keep out the morning sun. With a sigh the short woman lying on the lumpy mattress facing the said stream of sunlight got to her feet and stretched. Yawning, she pulled on her dressing gown and headed to the attached bathroom for a shower. "Today's the day I find a job and a more permanent place to stay" she though decisively, although she had said the same thing the past week that she had been in London.

Two hours later, however finds Amelia-Jay Warner, dressed in a knee length 50's style blue dress and a black blazer, the red waves cascading down her back and a satchel full of sheet music and her London A-Z outside a restaurant on Baker Street that had advertised in that day's newspaper two vacancies, both of which Amelia hoped to fill.

Taking a deep breath of the smog thick air she opened the door of the high class place and fixed a friendly smile on her face. "Hello" she called to the man mopping up the stage where a beautiful grand piano sat. "We're not open till 11, love." He said not looking up from his task. "I'm here about the vacancies you advertised? For a waitress and a pianist?" The man with the mop looked up, "My names Amelia-Jay Warner."

"Brilliant! I'm Jonathan Keys" he dropped his mop and practically skipped across to where she stood near the door. Gripping her small hand between both of his, shaking it enthusiastically. "The last two people who came about it were your average bottle blond teens with no experience, looked likely to run off at any point. You, however look much more professional. So which job are you interested in?" He said in one breath with a large grin plastered on his face. The grin widened further when she answered "Both."

"Both? You're a musician? What do you play?" He asked at speed, eyes wide with excitement. "Well I'm a grade 8 for piano and violin. I also play guitar, ukulele, flute, bongos and sing a bit." She said with a smile and reached into her bag "I have my CV with me now" Amelia added holding out a couple of sheets of paper.

"Brilliant!" Jonathan exclaimed again. "Whilst I read this would you be a dear and play me something. First just some piano then can you sing a bit for me please?" He gestured towards the piano he had been mopping by before. "Of course" Amelia-Jay said and walked over to the majestic instrument.

Sitting down on the black cushioned bench she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and hovered her hands above the keys. Exhaling she placed the tips of her fingers on top of the ivories and straitened her back. Opening her eyes she began to play a jazzy background noise type tune that was often heard at these places. Smiling she relaxed into the sweet sound that echoed around the empty room and began to improvise.

Once she had been playing for around 3 minutes she brought the tune to a close. A slow clapping brought her back to the restaurant from the musical land she transported herself to. "Brilliant! Now please sing me something of your choice, Miss Warner." The restaurant owner exclaimed once again from his seat by the window. "Call me AJ, please. Most people do." She said pleasantly before rummaging through the sheet music in the bag she had discarded by the piano. "Would 'I don't know how to love him' from Jesus Christ superstar do?" She added and when Jonathan nodded she placed the sheets on the stand and her hands returned to the keys.

"I don't know how to love him/ what to do/ how to move him/ he's a man/ he's just a man/ and I've had so many, men before/ in very many ways, he's just one more" her clear alto voice rang out softly, conveying the deep emotion and unrequited love the song was written to stand for. As she ended Jonathan clapped once more and grinned "Well AJ, the pianist job is most defiantly yours! I do have another lined up for the job also, a man named Clark. If you wouldn't mind coming in for a meeting with him tomorrow at around 10:30 so we can arrange a schedule then you can do a trail waitressing for the first shift which is 11- 2:30 if you wouldn't mind." Amelia agreed and gave Jonathan her number in case anything changed and left the restaurant with a wave to her new boss.

Pulling her blazer closed around her she glanced around the busy London street. "Amelia-Jay! AJ! How are you dear?" A familiar voice called from across the street by a cafe called Speedy's. Turning on her heel she fell into the open arms of Mrs Hudson. "It's great to see you Mrs Hudson! How's the hip? I'm great, just got a job." Amelia spoke hurriedly as she pulled back from the older woman's arms. "Ohh it's been giving me gip my dear, but not as much as that blasted tenant of mine! Ever since his roommate moved in with that lovely girl of his Sherlock's been in a huff. Do come in for a cup of tea my dear, how's your mother been?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst pulling the 26 year old behind her.

It wasn't until the where sat with empty mugs of tea in front of them that Amelia remembered what Mrs Hudson said about her tenant's roommate moving out. "Your tenant, you don't know if he's looking for a new roommate do you? I mean I know he's a pain form what you've told me but if I can put up with his experiments he could put up with my composing in the middle of the night, right?" She asked, swirling the remains of her tea in the bottom of her cup.

"Well, we could go and see now; I can hear him playing that violin of his upstairs. Come along dear." Mrs Hudson led her up to 221B where the door was stood open. Leaning on the door frame Amelia said goodbye to her old family friend and watched the tall man by the window play a mournful tune.

* * *

As the song came to a close she clapped slowly which appeared to shock the curly haired man in the window. He turned fast, the violin dropping from his chin to hand by his side. "You're almost as good as me Mr Holmes." She said with a smirk, still leaning in the door way.

"Humm... Not a client, no you're too comfortable here, your posture shows you know you're welcome. Not one of Mycroft's sectaries either, their always in black and texting. I'm going to go with a family friend of Mrs Hudson's? So what are you doing up here?" Sherlock said as his eyes swept over her.

Amelia stood up strait and held out her hand "Amelia-Jay Warner, call me AJ. Why don't you tell me Mr. Holmes?" Her voice was challenging, a challenge she know was something he could not resist.

Sherlock shook her hand quickly then scanned his eyes over her and began to real off his deductions. "You just came to London, been here for around a week looking for somewhere to live and a job. Your shoes show that you lived in the north of the country; I'd say rural North Yorkshire by the dirt on the souls. You came without any security and I would guess you are living off savings, so you were running. But what from? Not family, you would avoid people linked to them like Mrs. Hudson, an ex-boyfriend looks more likely and yet I don't think it's that. So that leaves us with the third option. You are running from memories of the area you were brought up in. And you had a problem with repeated depression as a teenager, probably due to your father's untimely death in Afghanistan 10 years ago. You play several instruments, including and most commonly the piano and violin." He stopped and threw himself onto the long coach that was against the wall.

"How... How did you... I mean it's not that... What?" She stammered, unable to comprehend what he had deduced. "Most people are too stupid to notice what I do. What memory has sent you running from your home town?"

"There is no memory, I was board. Nothing more, you're wrong Holmes." Amelia said but while she sounded confidant she was nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her jacket and pulling them further down her arms. "Show me your arms." Sherlock demanded from his position.

Amelia remained in the door way. "My arms? No, why?" She asked, feigning confusion and crossing her arms. He knew of her depression, how she could not fathom, but he knew. So this was surely not that hard a jump to make. He couldn't know, it's impossible, she told herself. But this is Sherlock Holmes, the world's first, only and best consulting detective. Anything's possible.

"She's defensive" he thought "I'm right!" Sherlock quickly rearranged his features into his usual 'board face' as John called it from the smug smirk that had crept across his face at this realisation. He swung his legs round onto the floor and stood. Drawing himself up to his full height he took two long strides until he was right in front of her. "Your arms Miss Warner, please?"

Reaching out Sherlock took her left wrist in his hand, pulling it from under her right arm. Fear sparkled in her eyes as AJ let him pull her arm lose and gently roll up the material of her jacket. Swallowing the lump that had arisen in her throat Amelia said "Mr. Holmes. Stop. Please. I beg of you. You won't like what you see." Tears running freely down her cheek..

Sherlock didn't stop though; he continued to push up the sleeve until it reached the crease of her elbow. Then it was his turn to swallow, his Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he did so, he was lost for words. For along that stretch of her forearm was a serious of puckered short dark scars, the number of which eluded even the great Sherlock Holmes.

Tentatively Holmes ran his index finger along the red line of the most recent cut; Amelia cried harder and caught his hand with her right hand. This action caused him to look up from the patterns on her skin and into her wet eyes. Then he did something that surprised him:

He pulled her into a tight hug.

"Take a look at the room, Miss Warner. You are more than welcome to stay here." Sherlock whispered breaking not only the silence, but the embrace that was the most human contact he had for months. Clearing his throat he added "Up the stairs, first door on the right."

After having inspected the unexpectedly large room Amelia returned to the living room. Whilst she was upstairs she also fixed her eyes so they were no longer red and surrounded by the running mascara that had made a complex maze down her cheeks. She entered the cluttered living room to find Mrs Hudson shuffling around kitchen complaining about the mess Sherlock had made.

"Well if you two don't mind I'll take the room." She said them both. "Wonderful dear!" Mrs Hudson said enthusiastically, Sherlock said nothing, in fact he didn't even seem to have realised she had spoken. Turning to Sherlock AJ said "Do you mind if I move in right away? Just I'm staying in a rather dingy B&B at the moment and I'd rather not stay there tonight."

After a short pause Sherlock realised she was talking to him "What. oh sure, move in whenever works for you. This must be so different from the little cottage your used to." He said staring at the ceiling. "Thank you sir. I'll go get my things now then. Thank you again, Mr Holmes, Mrs Hudson." Just as she went to leave Sherlock caught her arm and handed her a card. "Its Sherlock. Mr. Holmes is my brother." Without a word she turned she left Baker Street for the B&B she was staying in, clutching the card with Sherlock's number on as if her life depended on it.

* * *

Stepping out once more onto the street and rounding the corner from 221B Amelia glanced around for a cab whilst tucking Sherlock's card into her blazer pocket next to her phone having left her bag at her new flat. Holding out her hand she shouted "Taxi!" to no avail, so it shocked her a bit when a sleek black car with blacked out windows pulled up next to her. One of the back windows rolled down to revel a smartly dressed man of around 35 with a umbrella on his knee. "Hello Miss Warner. Please do get in." The man said opening the door and sliding across to allow room for her.

Amelia raised an eyebrow "I'm good, thanks." She said and began to walk away. "Oh really Amelia?" The man said. She stopped and turned on the heel of her old blue Doc Martins "or do you prefer AJ?" The man continued. "I'm sorry, but who the hell are you?" She oozed sass as she crossed her arms, a single eyebrow raised and her mouth in a stern line. This was what she used to call the get-your-ass-in-bed-right-this-minute babysitter glare, now she just used it when drunk guys tried to hit on her.

The man just smiled at her "an interested party, now do get in the car dear. We'll give you a lift to" he glanced at the notebook in his hand "K&K's B&B, we can discus on the way." Amelia glanced around her, looking for a taxi that she hoped had appeared at the kerb. With a sigh she climbed into the back seat of the car.

As soon as the door was closed the car pulled away and headed in the direction of the hotel. AJ turned and faced the man next to her. In the front, she noted as she did so, was a young woman, probably around her age, texting. "So, what do you want, Mr Holmes?" Amelia asked. Mycroft looked her up and down, any shock at her deduction was well hidden. "Well then, strait to the point Amelia. Do you plan on continuing your relationship with my younger brother?"

"Call me AJ and yes. I do." Amelia said, just as much venom in her tone as John had in his a few months before, but there was a slight undertone of surprise at her own words. "What's it to you?"

"I thought as much." Mycroft mumbled then louder and clearer he added "I would be prepared to offer you a meaningful sum of money in exchange for regular updates."

"Updates? How regular?" She asked, unfazed by his statement, arms folded across her chest. "Oh nothing intrusive just what he's up to, I do worry about him. You'd just have to tell me when he's on a case and such nothing indiscreet. A text every few days would suffice." He said, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips and a glint of approval in his eyes.

Amelia chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, Mycroft had an idea of what her next question would be before she asked it, and he was right. "How much is a 'meaningful sum'?" She made small quotation marks with her fingers as she asked.

"Shall we say £500 per update? And a thousand when I kidnap you briefly to speak in person?" He offered as a start, expecting her to ask for more. Well it was a strange thing to ask of a stranger, to spy on their new flat share. Amelia's eyes bulged at the price. "Oh. Okay. Fine, deal." She said almost immediately.

Mycroft seemed pleased if slightly shocked at her quick and impulsive decision "Well then Amelia-Jay Warner I shall expect a update very soon. You know you're the first person I've asked to do this who has actually agreed." Amelia just shrugged her shoulders and opened the door of the now stopped car.

"Good bye Mr. Holmes." She said stepping out onto the cold dark London street, turning to face Mycroft she hastily added "Ohh, can I get your number? For the updates?" Mycroft nodded and handed her a crisp white card bordered and printed upon in gold before shaking her hand. "Goodbye Mr. Holmes." Amelia smirked at the blatant differences between the brothers cards.

While Mycroft's expensive looking with gold swirls and embellishments that surrounded the gold text that read:

Mycroft Holmes

Government Official

Mobile: 07677395902

Email: MycroftHolmes123 .gov

Sherlock's wasn't as extravagant, it had simple black text and a simple black border on a white background and read:

Sherlock Holmes

Consulting detective

Mobile: 07543998294

Website: .com

With a sigh she stalked past the sulky receptionist and up the old stairs that lead to her room. When she reached and unlocked the door she sighed loudly. What was happing to her? First her new roommate guesses her darkest secret then his brother kidnaps her to offer her money to spy on the said roommate.

Pushing the door open she glanced around the mess she had managed to make in just a few short days. There were clothes and sheet music strewn across the floor and on every available surface.

Quickly she pulled her two large suitcases from under the bed, one of which was full of her instruments. Flipping open the first blue case (the empty one) she began to pile in all her clothes, folding them as small as they would go so as to save as much space as possible.

Once she had completely filled the blue case she moved onto the pink case that was full of her instruments other than the keyboard that sat on top of the bed. Amelia pulled out each instrument and put it in its own individual case. Once this was done she began to pile in her shoes, socks, toiletries and finally her sheet music.

When she was done with this she realised there was no way she could possibly carry all of this stuff, she had two MASSIVE suitcases and 5 instrument cases (her bongos were in the pink case). How the hell did she manage to carry all this herself before?

Amelia grabbed her phone and punched in Sherlock's number. Lifting the white IPhone to her ear she listened to the ringing. After three and a half rings he picked up.

"Amelia." Sherlock stated when picking up the phone. "How can I help you?" He smirked as he asked knowing if Mycroft was going to kidnap his new flatmate it would already be done and money would be offered.

"It's AJ, Sherlock and I was wondering if you would do me a favour." Amelia paused, waiting for a response from the freak she now called her roommate. When no such response came she continued "Would you come to my B&B and help my carry all my stuff? Please?"

"Yes. Fine. I'll be ten minutes." He said, seeming board. "Goodbye." He hung up and dropped his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. Jumping up he grabbed his long coat and blue scarf. "Goodbye Mrs. Hudson, I'm going to help your little friend." He called to the woman in his kitchen.

Ten minutes later found Sherlock arguing with the receptionist at K&K's about her allowing him up to AJ's room. From her room Amelia smirked, she could hear him from her room on the first floor. Quickly she threw a final piece of sheet music into her case and zipped it up before bounding down the rickety stairs.

"Sherlock! You came! Brilliant! Come on up!" She cried happily grabbing his coat she turned and began to pull him up the stairs. "Oh and I'll be checking out in around 6 minutes." She shouted down to the receptionist as she run up the stairs two at a time, pulling a tall man behind her.

Finally they were stood out on the street each laden in bags and Sherlock was showing off his incredible power over cabs. Almost immediately after he shouted for a taxi two pulled to the curb. Sherlock grinned at Amelia's shocked expression before helping her load the bags into the boot and opening the door for her to climb in.

"I met your brother today." She stated once they had left the B&B. Sherlock turned in his seat to face her "Did he offer you money to spy on me?" he asked harshly and when she nodded he added "Did you except it?"

"Yes. I figured we could split the money and use it for rent." Amelia looked at Sherlock, suddenly worried that she had made the wrong decision. Then Sherlock began to smile. Amelia soon to was grinning. Then they were laughing so hard they were leaning against each other for support. "But Shh, we can't tell Mycroft!" She sputtered as they arrived at 221B.

* * *

A few months past and the depressed musician soon got used to living with the sociopath and vice versa. The time past quickly but Sherlock didn't have many interesting cases and was resorting to the blog his old roommate John Watson had set up to bring in some new clients. In this time Amelia met John and his fiancée who she rather liked and got on well with.

**A/N: Oh yeah the numbers aren't real numbers and if they are they also don't belong to me. Please let me know what you think, reviews are like gold dust to me. **

**AllThatIWant **


	2. Falling Asleep

**A/N: Well Hello there! MASSIVE thank you to the 40 or so people who have read this so far you guys are all awesome! Also even bigger thank you to the two guests who reviewed, you are even more awesome! So I think I am going to start on series 2 after this case. Please tell me what you think in a review because it really means alot to me and motivates me to write.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, AJ is kinda mine but the rest is not. My killer isn't even mine, I based him and his crimes off 'The Red Scarf Killer' form the Nora Roberts novel 'The Search'. You should read it, its good. Anyway, not mine.****  
**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 2: Falling Asleep

There was a soft pounding at the door followed the loud creek of it opening. "Sherlock, AJ, hello! I have..." John trailed off when he saw the consulting detective and the pianist laid together on the couch. Asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Earlier that day the two had solved a case that called for them to be out all night and a unusually large amount of running, even for them. Then Amelia had a double shift at work. When she returned she found Sherlock sat in his thinking position, hands underneath his chin just as she had left him six hours ago.

"Budge up Sherly, I am exhausted." Amelia nudged him across from the centre of the sofa so she could lie with her head in his lap. Absentmindedly Sherlock began to play with the long curls of fiery red hair that were splayed across his knee. "Why do you let me so close Sherly? John and Sarah came in to Key's today. They told me I'm the closest they've ever seen anyone get to you. Why?" Amelia turned so she could look into his eyes as she spoke.

Sherlock stopped fiddling "I... I don't know. You intrigue me. I don't know why." They lay like that for a while in silence until AJ was almost asleep when she murmured "Thank you. You're the only person who knows who doesn't look at me like glass about to shatter. I told them I stopped. I never stopped."

Sherlock remained silent and soon she fell asleep. He smiled at her, then reprimanded himself, he didn't care about people. Caring made you slow, it made you venerable. So why do I care about this girl? He questioned himself, something he rarely -if ever- does. Soon he to drifted off to sleep, head back against the sofa cushion and a red head on his lap and splayed across the rest of the settee.

John smirked and placed the heavy white envelope he was carrying on the coffee table in between two violins. Quickly he walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. From the cupboard by the sink he pulled out three mugs and a hidden packet of 'safe' tea bags and began to prepare the mugs of tea. Black three sugars for Sherlock, milk one sugar for AJ and just milk for him.

* * *

When the kettle boiled loudly the sleeping pair jolted up and very loudly Amelia cursed John to the high heavens. John just smiled and held out her mini mouse mug "huuhhh! Gimmy gimmy!" She said reaching out, eyes wide. "What do you say?" John asked teasingly. "Pwease" Amelia fluttered her eyelashes and reached for the mug again and John let her have it before handing Sherlock his plain black mug.

"So what brings you to Baker Street John?" Sherlock asked once John had sat down in his usual armchair. "Sherly, don't be so rude, he made me tea and visited me at work and he barely knows me. And he made me tea my favourite mug, which is much cooler than your mug. You need a new mug." Amelia sat curled against Sherlock with her red mug clutched to her chest and her cheek on Sherlock's shoulder, his arm around hers.

"Sherly?" John asked clearly amused by the nick-name. "He calls me Amelia, I call him Sherly." AJ shrugged. "Well I came to give Sherly his invitation to mine and Sarah's wedding." John said excitedly nodding towards the crisp white envelope between the pairs treasured violins.

The two flat mates shared a small smile and Sherlock gestured for Amelia to pass his the envelope in question. As she picked it up John drained his mug and stood to leave "see you later" he called as he left. Sherlock flipped the heavy envelope over in his hand and slid a finger under the flap. From the envelope he pulled a crisp white card with a lilac ribbon around the top. It read:

John Watson and Sarah Miller invite

Sherlock Holmes +1

To their wedding ceremony and reception

On the 21st July

He flipped the card to find the address of the church and venue of the reception along with some crude directions.

Whilst Sherlock was reading the invite over and over again Amelia stood and walked over to the sink and began to wash up. Quickly she began to rummage through cupboards looking for some food to make dinner with.

The cupboards were bare of any edible food bar a packet of Doritos and some rice. With a sigh she tried the fridge only to find a arm where the milk should be. Closing the door quickly she shouted through to Sherlock. "Sherly grab your coat. You're buying me Chinese!"

10 minutes later and they were at the Chinese takeout round the corner. Like a perfect gentlemen Sherlock opened the door for Amelia and paid for the food, he didn't even have to ask what she wanted to eat. "Singapore chicken sweet and sour, egg fries rice and dim sum please. And some prawn crackers" he added after glancing down at his companion.

After the food arrived he offered Amelia his arm and they walked together back to 221B quite happy in the silence. When they returned to the flat it wasn't as empty as they had both hoped for on the sofa was Mycroft Holmes.

AJ quickly grabbed the food from Sherlock and went through to the kitchen to put in onto plates. Ignoring Mycroft she handed Sherlock his plate and sat in the armchair John had recently vacated and tucked into her chicken. The two brothers were talking in hushed tones and Amelia was in no hurry to interrupt them so she just sat and ate. Once she was finished she stood and took her plate through to the kitchen and dumped it in the sink.

Softly she headed to go up the stairs to her room but as she passed through the living room she heard three words; waste of space. That's what they had called her, among other things, the girls she went to school with. The girls she worked with. Sherlock and Mycroft must be talking about her too.

She began to run, no longer caring to be quite she reached her room in record time as the sobs began to brake free. Having locked the door, Amelia threw herself down on the bed and clutched the duvet in her fist. The sobs came faster and soon it was hard for her to breathe properly.

Gasping she sat up and tried to even out her breaths. Then she reached beneath her bed and pulled out a old shoe box. Wiping her eyes in an attempt to stem the flow of tears with one hand she lifted the lid with the other. Surrounded by bars of chocolate and notes telling her not to she found it.

Her breathing slowed to a more regular pace as she held it in her hand and pressed it to the skin on her arm. The numbness took her and the blood began to trickle down her arm.

BANG! The door fell to the ground and in the space it once stood was Mr. Sherlock Holmes. "Amelia. No." He said, his tone was the softest she had ever heard it and this caught her off guard. She froze on the spot on top of her bed as the detective approached her quickly he took the razor from her hand and pulled her up right and into his arms.

This was the second time he had hugged her like this and once again she sobbed into his shirt like a small child. Softly he stroked her hair and tugged her down to sit in his lap on her bed, gently rocking her like a infant in effort calm her down. Eventually her sobs turned to hiccups and the tears began to dry. AJ was half asleep so gently Sherlock laid her down under her duvet and picked up the razor.

Swiftly he moved through her room looking for anymore. He found 5 hidden and a new packet in the cabinet in their bathroom. Shoving the razors into a bin bag he took them out into a bin on the street where she wouldn't find them. Re-entering the flat he found a not so sleepy Amelia sat cross legged on the settee in his second best dressing gown and her pink Minnie mouse pj's. "Amelia you can't keep doing this to yourself." Sherlock said sincerely as he crossed the room and crouched in front of her.

"Look at me AJ" she looked up from the very interesting pattern on her trousers. "You are a worthwhile person and you confuse me. Okay. I think I've got you nailed then you go and say something or do something that completely changes everything I thought. And I like it. I like you." Sherlock's eyes widened at his own words not realizing he felt that way until the words had escaped his mouth.

"Oh" he said simply as if his words were said by someone else and he had just noticed there truth. Ever so gently he took her right wrist and much like on their first meeting he rolled up her sleeve. He ran his thumb over the raised skin of where she just scraped the blade across and cut a line, smudging the beads of blood.

Jumping up Sherlock ran to the kitchen, Amelia could hear him rummaging but was too busy processing his words to go and see what he was doing. Triumphantly he held the plastic green box of the first aid kit in the air as he walked with long strides to kneel in front of the fiery ginger girl."Sherlock..." She trailed off unsure what to tell him so she just sat and let him clean and bandage her arm.

* * *

Once he was done he stood and picked up his violin from where it sat on the coffee table and walked to the window where he began to play Amelia's favourite of his compositions. 'For AJ' he wrote on the top of the hand written score.

Lifting the instrument to his chin he began to play once more, turning from the window he looked Amelia in her big brown eyes as he played the final cords. AJ clapped softly, crossing the room to where he stood. Sherlock opened his arms and his roommate fell into them as though it was second nature.

If Mycroft saw them he'd laugh himself into next week, the sociopath was getting close to a real life human being. Unfortunately that human being was... Fragile, in the highest degree one false move and she'd slip from his grasp. From everyone's.

They stood like this, Amelia on her tiptoes with her arms around Sherlock's neck and head on his chest, Sherlock with his hands locked around her waist and chin resting on her head. Small crystals of water trickled silently down Amelia's cheeks and made small patches amongst the bigger, dryer ones from earlier on Sherlock's purple shirt.

The sound of feet hurrying up their stairs jolted the pair apart, Amelia wiped her eyes and pulled her sleeves down self-concisely as Sherlock arranged himself in his 'thinking position' in an arm chair. She sat down just as Mrs. Hudson walked through the door, followed by three burly men in suits.

"Mrs. Hudson" Amelia's voice broke slightly as she spoke so she cleared her throat before she continued "Who are these people? And why are they in my living room whilst I am in my pj's?" Mrs. Hudson looked behind her at the men. "They wanted to see Sherlock, is your door bell not working again? He shot it." She said as she brushed past them and back down to her own flat.

Whist this exchange happening the men were looking around the cluttered living room, taking in the skull on the mantel piece, the mail stabbed with a pen knife, the scattered music and instruments, the spray painted smiley face and the bullet holes in the wall. "And you are?" Sherlock said, unmoving and with no emotion – not even sarcasm – to his voice.

"Friends of Mycroft, he sent us to come get you." The tallest of the men said "Is... Is that human?" He pointed at the brain on the kitchen table and pulled on his collar. "Yes, it's an experiment. What makes you think we're going to come with you?" Sherlock looked up now but his voice remained the same. Blank.

If it wasn't Sherlock Amelia would have found it unnerving, inhuman, and robotic. Epically after what had just happened. But this is Sherlock Holmes, he's never human. Physically, yes, but not really. He functions like a robot and acts like one in most situations, unless they involved Amelia for reasons un-be-known to even him.

"Because he said that if you don't, he'll give you a knighthood." The second man said, eyes flickering to the thumbs in the microwave. "Give AJ a few minutes to get dressed" Sherlock said jumping to his feet and hurrying his confused roommate upstairs. With a small smile AJ padded bare foot into her room and pulled off her pyjamas. Soon she was wiping the lines of mascara off of her face and swiping on a new coat.

Dressed in skinny black jeans and ox-blood doc's, a long red jumper pulled down over her hands, she made her way down to join the men, pulling her hair into a pony tail as she went.

"So, what does your dear big brother want then Sherlock?" She asked as the men bundled them into the back of a sleek black car.

"You called me Sherlock." He said looking at the small girl. "You called me AJ, now answer the question Sherly." "I don't know case maybe. Checking up on me defiantly. You too I think." When Sherlock saw Amelia's brows nit together in confusion he added "He didn't like the way you ran off earlier, or the fact that I shooed him out to make sure you were okay. Love is a chemical defect found in the losing side, he told me."

"You love me?" Amelia said, more confused than ever. Sherlock's a sociopath, he can't love and even if he could he wouldn't love you. How could he, look at yourself, your a waist of space and oxygen. A little voice in the back of her head told her. "I... I don't know." Sherlock answered earnestly. "See," the little voice said, "who'd have you, no one loves you. No one wants you. The whole world would be better off if you just died."

Their conversation was suspended as they had arrived at a large glass building and were being ushered out the car and into the front lobby. Amelia's eyes popped at the lavish splendour of that one large room filled with people in suits. The pair walked towards the glass counter top of the main desk."Sherlock Holmes and Amelia-Jay Warner" He said in a board monotone.

The brunette receptionist did a quick search on her computer then handed them a visitors pass each "Okay, you need to wear these at all times. You are just up the stairs on the right sixth door on the right. Mycroft is waiting for you." She said with a forced smile.

Sherlock grabbed the passes and handed one to AJ as he walked away without so much as a thank you. Amelia had to run in order to keep up with his fast steps and long strides "Where are we?" She asked when she finally caught up with him."Mycroft's offices" He practically spat, although he did slow down and offer his arm to his roommate.

Amelia clutched his arm as if her life depended on it, she was nervous. Cripplingly so, why had Mycroft brought them here Sherlock knocked three times before opening the door and pulling AJ in with him. "Brother dear, what can we do for you?" Sherlock asked with mock pleasure and a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

Mycroft stood from behind his desk and walked towards them, a mournful expression on his face."You know you could have just phoned us? In fact you were at the flat little under an hour ago, you could have just told us whatever it is then." Amelia placed a hand on her hip, her other still firmly grasped the crook of Sherlock's right elbow. "Miss Warner," Mycroft began "I am terribly sorry for whatever I may have said or done to offend you earlier today. I merely..."

"Stop, don't worry about it. Sherlock helped, sort of. A bit, kind of, actually he did nothing; in fact it's him I'm angry at! Was that all?" Amelia said releasing her grasp on Sherlock she reached out and pulled Mycroft into a tight hug.

Behind her she could hear Sherlock trying not to laugh and failing miserably as his brother awkwardly patted Amelia on the back, his experience in that field was almost as limited as his younger brothers. Amelia joined in with the laughter and pulled away from one Holmes boy and walked towards the other.

"Are you laughing at me Sherly?" She asked playfully prodding him in the stomach. "Ahh, were back to Sherly, Amelia." He asked with a raised an eyebrow and pulled her into a one armed hug as they laughed together.

Mycroft looked at the pair laughing like children in his pristine office. Noisily Mycroft cleared his throat and the pair swallowed their giggles and plastered blank expressions on their faces, although the corners of both their mouths twitched upwards slightly.

"I asked you to come here as I didn't have the chance to warn you before. Miss Warner, AJ I believe you are in grave danger. There is a serial killer on the loose." Mycroft said sincerely. Sherlock scoffed "We read about it in the paper 'The green scarf killer' hardly inventive. What makes you think Amelia is in anymore danger than everyone else in London?"

"The killer is targeting waitresses. Ginger waitresses, all of the five so far have been waitresses heading to or from work alone with red hair and around the age of 25 to 29. Then they go missing for a few days and are found, died. Strangled with a green scarf that is tied in a bow around their necks when they are dug up from their shallow graves and marked with a roman numeral." Mycroft said sincerely his eyes full of worry.

Amelia's eyes widened her mouth a perfect 'O' "Sher... Sherlock. Please. Tell me I'm safe. Please. Oh god. Sherlock." She was now weeping into his shirt for the third time since they had met four months ago. Sherlock began to rub comforting circles into her back, holding her tightly.

"Well done Mycroft." He sneered before pulling the crying girl out of the office. He pulled AJ's pass from around her neck and threw that along with his at the receptionist still cradling the weeping woman with one arm. Gently he pulled her into the first cab his saw, stealing from a young business man in a power suit.

Once they were back in Baker Street Sherlock carried her up stairs and put her in her bed. "I won't let him get you AJ. I won't let him anywhere near you. I will take you to and from work, you will go nowhere alone I promise you. You will not be next, or ever. Okay?" He whispered softly, crouched by the end of her bed.

Gently he placed a kiss on for head and wiped away a tear with his thumb. "Now sleep." He commanded as he stood to leave."Sherly, stay. Please, I really don't want to be alone right now. Please Sherlock, stay with me." Amelia grabbed his hand as he stood to leave and pulled him into her bed.

"Oh, Okay." Sherlock said uncomfortably shifting under the duvet. Carefully he wrapped his arm around her and let her fall asleep on his chest as they often had been found on the couch. Of course this was quite different, they were in a bed and that scared Mr. Sherlock Holmes. No one ever made him do things like this, so why did he let this girl he'd known just four months?

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**A/N: I really hope you liked, I know Sherlock is a little OOC but please tell me what you think of the story and also I would really like to hear what you think of my OC, Amelia-Jay. Thank you for reading, DFTBA Loves ya all just for coming back to read the next chapter. **

**AllThatIWant x**


	3. GSK

**A/N: Hello, this one is SO much shorter than the last two as I am on a borrowed laptop cause my laptop sucks at being a laptop. I am really grateful to all who have read this so far. I also want to tell you a little of who I think of Amelia's past. She was bullied a lot at school and didn't have many friends so as a consequence she now pushes people away as a method of self-preservation. The bullying is one of the triggers for her self-harm. So thats a bit of her back story. **

**Disclaimer****: I own nothing. Other than Amelia and Clark. Rest not mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

"Sherlock, it's been two months since GSK last struck, I can manage to walk across the street without being escorted! You can watch from the window if it makes you feel better." Amelia argued, exasperated at Sherlock's constant vigilance. "Please, Sherly I have a hard enough time without turning up with Mr. Cheekbones before every shift and being picked up by him as well."

"Fine, but I will watch you going and you will text me as you prepare to leave and you do not, I repeat do NOT leave until I tell you I am watching. Understood?" Sherlock pointed his bow at her as she prepared to leave.

Quickly Amelia grabbed her phone and waved it at him, then she shoved it in her pocket alongside her keys. "Don't shoot any walls in the next three hours Sherly, for me?" She pleaded and when he nodded sullenly she smiled and swept out the flat.

Three hours of almost constant piano playing later Amelia shoot a hello to Clark and sent a quick text to Sherlock.

_Amelia: On my way home Sherly, pop the kettle on? ;) - AJW x_

_Sherly: I'm at the window, Mrs Hudson is making some tea – SH_

_Amelia: She's not our housekeeper as I am sure she will remind us when I get home. Ask her to add a couple of bisects if she has them, Jammy Dodgers would be great – AJW x_

_Sherly: Have done, Not our house keeper. – SH_

Amelia smiled as she made her way across the busy road, because she wasn't looking where she was going she bumped into a man not much taller than herself. "Oh, sorry sir." She said with a pleasant smile. The man brushed her off and she carried on home.

Two days later she served the same guy in the restaurant, she simply smiled and brushed it off as coincidence. He continued to dine at Key's every couple of days for the next three weeks.

Amelia just smiled and played piano or let one of the other girls take his table. The first time she served him was the first night Sherlock wasn't watching her home from work as Lestrade wanted him at The Yard for a statement. She smiled and waved to Clark as she left before hurrying home.

It felt strange not having Sherlock watching her cross that road, even though it was unnecessary she thought as she bumped into the same man she had a few weeks before. "Ohh, sorry." She said as she carried on for home.

"Umm, Miss would you help me please? My dogs hurt over by that alleyway." He pleaded before she could walk away from him. Amelia glanced up at her flat than at the man's desperate face. "Fine, okay. Where is he?" she followed the man to a side ally across which a blue ford fiesta was parked.

"I don't see a do…" Amelia collapsed as the man stuck a syringe into her arm; her eyes fluttered closed as she got a good look at her attacker's time warn face. He had short, military-esc brown hair, green eyes lined with age. He had to be around 40. He was short, his hands were calloused but he was strong. He lifted her and stowed her in the boot of his car.

Glancing around, he tied her hands together with a thick rope and a complicated knot. He then moved to bind her feet with the same rope, lopping it around the knotted piece of rope at her hands behind her back. Then he gagged her with a green silk scarf and closed the lid over her.

Meanwhile Sherlock was arguing with Lestrade over how long he was keeping him "I am needed at Baker Street Lestrade." He sighed for the umpteenth since his arrival at Scotland Yard. And finally he let him leave. If he had left 5 minutes earlier maybe he could have saved her. Maybe.

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**A/N: I really hope you enjoyed it, don't worry about AJ she can take care of herself. I would really love to here from you guys in a review or PM. See you next time? I hope so anyway. Bye now**

**AllThatIWant**


	4. Tied Up

**A/N: Hello! So my laptops working (for now) so this one is longer and I like it, so I hope you do! Thank you so much to the lovely RandomHyperChild, that night and Moon-fireflies for your lovely reviews, I have replied as I try to do with every review I get! Not much else to say, Other than that I don't own Sherlock. Sucks I know.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 4

Amelia thrashed around as the sedative began to wear off and she found herself enclosed and bound, moving in a unknown car to an unknown destination. She turned and felt her key dig into her from her pocket. He had taken everything else from her but hadn't noticed the key.

With great difficulty she reached her bound hands into the back pocket of her work trousers. As quickly as she could she pulled the key from her pocket and used it to saw at the binding on her wrists. He breathing was shallow and the hot sting of tears was singeing her pale cheeks.

The pain was excruciating as the harsh ropes rubbed against her skin, burning and cutting, as she made slow but steady progress on the ties. "If only I'd listened to Sherlock and called in sick, or waited for him at the bar like he suggested." She thought as she quickened her sawing pace.

After around ten minutes of constant cutting and more rope burns than she thought possible Amelia snapped the rope. Sighing in relief she began to pull and tug at the rope untangling it from her. She then began on a second strand of the rope, from what she could feel with her bond hands if she cut there then she would free her arms.

Just as she made it through that rope the car jolted to a stop. Amelia's ragged breaths caught in her throat she hastily began to untie the complicated knots around her ankles. She sighed in a brief relief as the car lurched forwards again. Traffic lights, thank god.

Once the rope around her legs was undone, she arranged the rope over them to give the allusion of still being tied. "Okay. What do I do when that psycho comes back to get me out?" She thought. Clearing her mind she began to plan.

* * *

Meanwhile Sherlock was pacing frantically in the living room of 221B Baker Street "Mrs Hudson! Is AJ home yet?" He had asked when he passed his landlady on the doorstep To which she replied "I don't think so dear." And hurried of to run some errands.

That was ten minutes ago and Amelia should be home by now. Sherlock was worried so he threw on his coat and tied his scarf as he crossed the busy London street to Key's. Throwing open the door he scanned the room for AJ, when he didn't find her he walked to the bar.

"Excuse me, do you know if Amelia is still here?" He asked politely to the woman behind the bar although the worry seeped through. When she looked at him blankly he sighed and added "Amelia-Jay, AJ. She works here, plays piano and waitresses?" He was getting exasperated.

"Oh, the freak! She left like half an hour ago. What do you care?" The blonde said nastily, cold blue eyes swept over him. Sherlock looked at her hatefully "I don't appreciate that tone, or the name calling of your college, and if I don't find her soon I may find her dead." He spat as he swept out the establishment.

"Where. Where?" He mumbled among other things as he glanced around the street. "Come on! Think!" He shouted, attracting the attention of passersby. "The others were found in parks three days after they disappeared, each no more than forty miles from where they were last seen, killed at the location of their burial, strangled with a green silk scarf." Sherlock began to spout off everything he knew about the case very quickly, eyes closed in the middle of the path, he ignored the annoyed grumbling of the general public.

"Mycroft!" he shouted after a few moments earning him more strange looks as he pulled out his phone, still stood on the pavement as the rush of people pushed past him. "Brother dear, I do hope you've been watching Amelia... After she left work today... Yes I know! Text me the CCTV pictures... Okay... Find the bloody car then! Goodbye."

He hung up on his brother and glanced at the pictures of the car and Amelia. Quickly he hailed a cab and gave it ruff directions as they went along and Mycroft sent him more pictures. All Sherlock could think was "Oh AJ, don't die on me. Please don't die on me." As he urged the driver to go faster.

* * *

Amelia had her plan ready when the car stopped again, the ropes that had tied her feet together were placed convincingly over her ankles as they had before she untied them, her hands were behind her back and the scarf was still in her mouth and tied in a bow at the back.

With baited breath she waited for her kidnapper to come round to open the boot as she put her plan in action. When she heard the heavy thump of him closing the driver's side door she wriggled slightly, wondering if her plan would work and hoping it did. His steps resonated in her ears louder than they should as he came round to her.

Taking one final breath in the stuffy, small space at the back of the car she closed her eyes as a loud click alerted her of the lid being lifted. She opened them widely with fear sparkling intensely in her dilated pupils. Swallowing dryly in an attempt to moisten her dry throat she got a good look at the face of her kidnapper. He smiled which pushed her over the edge.

Once the lid was fully opened she kicked out with both legs, hitting the older man in the crotch. When he doubled over she kicked off the rope around her feet and jumped from the car. Her attacker had brought her to the darkest corner of a cheap hotel car park. The GSK was straightening up so Amelia pulled back her fist and hit him square in the nose, breaking it and knocking him backwards.

With one hand ripping at the scarf over her mouth she began to run towards the nearest couple exiting a car across the car park. When she removed the gag she began to scream. "HEELLPP! CALL THE FUCKING POLICE! HELP ME PLEASE!" The tears from before began to run again as the shocked couple moved towards her.

But the murder too was running for her, not happy his number 6 had escaped him after he followed her for so long. He reached her and clamped a hand over her mouth, injecting her with another sedative. The other people in the car park were too far to reach her properly and the killer hadn't noticed them as he dragged her back to his car and they called the police.

* * *

When Sherlock was around the corner from the car park he heard her screams and jumping out the taxi he thrust a 50 at the driver and ran towards them. Sherlock heard sirens as he jumped the fence surrounding the car park, he moved swiftly and gracefully to where he saw the fiery red hair of his roommate being dragged towards a car and stuffed in the boot.

Rage seared through him as his pace doubled in speed and he rushed towards them, pulling his gun from his coat pocket. "STOP, Police!" He yelled as the killer put her into the back of his car. He was now just three steps from the car and had noticed the syringe sticking out of Amelia's arm.

The murderer dropped AJ half in the car, legs hanging out over the lip uncomfortably, and turned to face Sherlock, drawing his own gun. As he did so twenty or so officers swarmed them.

Sherlock allowed the real police to handcuff the murderer before he ran to Amelia. He lifted her carefully and pulled the syringe out of her arm, throwing it to Anderson he carried her bridal style to the nearby ambulance. Gently he laid her down on the stretcher he checked her over for any injuries gingerly he picked up her hand and examined the cuts and rope burns on her wrists. The rage he felt before bubbled into anger as a bubbling paramedic stepped into the ambulance.

"Umm sir, We're going to the hospital now. You have to leave." He stammered unsure who he was actually talking to and why his was caressing her damaged wrists. "I'm coming with her, flatmate and emergency contact." He stated, not looking up from the patient. The medic shrugged and soon they were headed for Bart's.

A few hours and many cups of tea later Amelia came to in her hospital bed, when she awoke she began to scream and panic. Sherlock jumped from his chair had placed his hands gently over each arm "Shhh... You're okay now." He whispered softly.

When Amelia saw Sherlock she instantly calmed down and he let go of her arms. When he did so she grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, once again sobbing into his shirt. Sherlock lifted her carefully and climbed onto the bed, putting her in his lap and holding her protectively.

"Shhh... It's okay... I'm here now... you're safe" He rocked her slowly as her tears dried and halted. She looked up with those big brown eyes of hers, softly Sherlock reached out and wiped away the final tear. He smiled down at her and squeezed her tightly for a second.

As he held her, the pair completely oblivious to the rest of the world, Greg Lestrade entered the hospital room and cleared his throat. "Sherlock, AJ. I need to talk a statement from you both, but err" He seemed to just take in how close the pair were sitting. "I can umm... come back later." He smirked at Sherlock.

"Are you ready to tell Lestrade what happened?" He asked, his voice the softest Greg had ever heard it. When the redhead nodded he slid out from under her and walked over the door. He turned at the door, "Do you want me to stay?" He asked suddenly. Amelia nodded.

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**A/N: Well thanks for reading as always! I really hope you enjoyed and please do review, let me know what cases you want me to do next and what you think of Amelia and the fic in general! **

**Love**

**AllThatIWant :)**


	5. Breakfast In Bed

**A/N: Well hello there! I recently found out quite a few Americans are reading this which is so AWESOME! But then I realised that I am terribly British and yeah, that's a weird feeling. So Americans, or people of any other nationality yell at me if I'm being to British or is you don't understand any of my British-ism's. Oh and remember the warning for language in the summery? Yeah that applies right now.**

** Disclaimer: not mine.**

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Chapter 5

"SHERLOCK! What the fuck are you doing in my mother fucking room at 6 in the morning on a fucking Saturday! And you are just wearing a fucking sheet! For fucks sake Sherly, get OUT!" Amelia screamed when she awoke to see her roommates face hovering over her own. Sherlock sighed and left, only to change into his usual suit and dress shirt - a dark plumb for today.

Then he knocked on Amelia's door before entering, ignoring her yells for him to go away. "I have a proposition for you Miss Warner." He stated, sitting and the edge of her bed. Amelia sat up and, running a hand threw her untamed red curls, she raised an eyebrow "Yeah? Well it can wait until you've made me some breakfast in bed, I've had a shower and gotten dressed Sherly dear. You know the consequences when you wake me up at unreasonable hours. And I'm adding dinner because you were FUCKING NAKED! Now leave!" Amelia pointed to the door, Sherlock huffed but obliged and closed the door behind him.

Two minutes later he returned with a bowl of cocoa pops, a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea on a tray. Silently he placed the blue polka dot tray on his roommates lap before turning to leave. Sherlock paused at the door, twisting on the spot to watch her eat the children's food. With a smirk he tapped his chin, letting her know about the dribble of delicious chocolate milk on her own.

"Why did you want me there when you made your statement?" Sherlock asked suddenly after watching Amelia eat for a while, the question had been bothering him for months.  
"I... Umm.. Well I don't really know Greg that well. And I knew you would want to know what happened anyway, I didn't want to have to say it again, AlsoIjustreallyneededyoutheretoholdmyhand" she rushed out the last part so fast you could barley tell one word from the next, if you could hear it at all for she whispered it softly before stuffing her mouth with more chocolaty goodness.

To Amelia's dismay and Sherlock's confusion he did hear and understand the entirety of her statement. He turned and walked out of the room, eyebrows knotted together. Soon Amelia finished her breakfast so she stood and carried the tray back through to the kitchen. Soft melodies escaped Sherlock's praised violin, Amelia paused by the door frame, just listening.

When his melancholy tune came to its natural close Sherlock turned to face her "I thought you were going for a shower? Don't you need to get ready for court." He said blandly. Amelia's eyes widened, she had forgotten that today she must stand in front of a court room full of people as a witness. Gasping she made a beeline for the bathroom.

Sherlock hurried after her pulling back the unruly waves of red before they fell into her face as she heaved into the toilet bowl. When she finished Amelia reached for her tooth brush and Sherlock left without a word allowing Amelia use of the shower in private. When she emerged 30 minutes later wrapped in a towel with a matching one around her head keeping the wet curls of her back she could hear Sherlock playing again, it was her song. She smiled at this before walking back through to her bedroom.

Twenty minutes after, her hair was half dry and pulled in a messy bun but AJ was now wrapped in a fluffy white dressing gown as she rifled once again through her wardrobe. With a sigh she yelled "Sherly! What the hell should I wear in court?!"

"Dress smart! You want the judge and jury to believe what you say, though why they wouldn't I cannot fathom!" He yelled back, with what one could only guess was supposed to be an encouraging tone. After another ten minutes of searching and dressing she entered the living room. "Will this do?"

Amelia turned on the spot showing Sherlock the black pencil skirt, deep purple shirt and black blazer. When Sherlock nodded she grabbed her only pair of heels, plain black three inch court shoes. Slipping her feet into them she pulled on a knee length black Mac just as there was a knock on the door. John Watson and DI Lestrade entered followed by Mrs Hudson, all three of which eloped her in a tight hug. With a small smile Amelia tugged the curly mess atop her head into something which resembled a tidy bun allowing a few red tendrils to fall around her face.

"Let's go," AJ said, some of her worry seeping into her voice."It's gonna be okay AJ,that bastard's going down for what he did to you and the other five girls," Lestrade said comfortingly. John, Sherlock and Mrs Hudson nodded in agreement before the three men began to escort her to the waiting car.

* * *

Soon the groups cab reached the court house and to no one's surprise the steps were swarmed with press. Sergeant Donovan opened the door and took the lead in surrounding Amelia. They walked in a precise and practiced formation, AJ in the centre with Sherlock and John on her right and left and Lestrade bringing up the rear.

They pushed past the press and when Sherlock felt they were not going fast enough he placed a hand on the small of Amelia's back pushing her onwards, much to the rest of the groups shock. Amelia however was used to Sherlock's little, supposedly affectionate gestures that meant nothing at all to him.

As soon as they were in the court house Sally Donovan stopped. "Right you lot, disappear. Girl talk." Sally waved away the boys to take their seats in the court room. "So? You and the freak?" She asked, spinning the shorter women to face her by her left elbow. Amelia winced at the touch and at the words.

"That's what they call me at work. The freak. But Sherlock's not a freak, he's just clever. To clever for me. He's just my roommate, and quite unaware of the concept of personal space unless it suites him." Amelia giggled, remembering all the times she had been tossed off the couch only to be woken up the very next morning by his face leaning very close to hers.

Sally looked shocked at AJ's defence of Sherlock. A small smile played on the corner of Donovan's lips, "yeah, well be careful. One day we'll be stood around a body and he'll be the one that put it there. You know why? He gets off on it. He's a psychopath."

"High functioning sociopath" Sherlock corrected from a door way. "We're in here until you get called for AJ." He then turned on his heel and strode into the room. Amelia quickly followed with Donovan bringing up the rear only to be shooed out into the actual court room to observe the whole thing with John by Lestrade.

"Sherlock, please just talk to me. Anything to take my mind of what's happening in there. Please." Amelia begged after they had been waiting in the small room for around an hour. Lestrade had already left to be questioned and was still being questioned as they spoke. Sherlock gazed at his roommate for a second before he said, "Will you come to John's wedding with me?"

Amelia gasped, "You want me to go to John's wedding with you? Like a date?" she asked, confused by his sudden resolve to go to the wedding, let alone take her. "Amelia I am flattered by your interest, but I consider myself married..."

"To you job, I know. I was teasing you Sherly! I don't do dates, remember. I just wanted to see you get all flustered!" The short woman giggled at Sherlock's face which was indeed rather flustered. She then snuggled under his arm, letting her head fall to his chest as she drifted off to sleep. Sherlock sat frozen with his arm around her shoulders and let her sleep.

Unfortunately he could not let her sleep for much longer as a clerk came to take her to the court room. Gently he shook her shoulders with the arm wrapped around them. She jumped up when she awoke and Sherlock simply muttered, "Its time Amelia. Remember, just as we rehearsed, tell John and Lestrade. Forget about everyone else but John, Lestrade and the barrister. Good luck." He gave her a encouraging squeeze before shoving her out the room with the clerk.

* * *

"So Miss Warner, tell us exactly what happened on the night in question?" The Barrister asked. "Well, ever since Sherlock – my roommate – heard about the killings and saw that I fit the description of the guys MO he started taking me to and from work so I was never alone.

But that night he was called away to work whilst I was on my shift. He told me to wait for him at the bar but I told him not to be so daft. It had been months since the last killing so I thought I was safe. I headed home, we only live across the street.

Then I accidently walked into this man" She pointed to Perry, the man identified as the murderer. "He had become a bit of a regular at Key's but I never served him. He said his dog was hurt in a ally way. Asked for help.

I didn't think, I just followed him. He drugged, gagged and bound me then tossed me in the boot of his car. He emptied my pockets, took my phone and purse and some sheet music for a song I was working on. He didn't check the small pocket in the back of my work trousers though.

I always keep my key there, so I remember where I put it. I managed to wriggle and pull the key from my pocket and I used it as a saw to cut away the rope. Once this was done I untied my ankles and made a plan of how to escape him.

When the car stopped and he opened the boot I kicked out. Hitting him in the stomach I jumped from the car and as he started to straighten up I punched him in the face and knocked him to the ground.

Then I ran and yelled at a couple of people across the car park. I believe they called the police, but I'm not sure because he gave me a second dose of the sedative and I guess he carried me back to his car. I was half awake and the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital was someone shouting and I was dropped." She stopped her voice laced with emotion.

* * *

After a few more questions she was allowed to leave and as she hurried head down from the court room she practically ran into a tall, handsome man. "Oh gosh, sorry." She said with a small smile as she stepped around him to where Lestrade was waiting.

"No problem my dear." The man's soft Irish burr drifted off as he glanced at his phone.

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**A/N: Well there you go! I really hope you enjoyed, who could the mysterious Irish man be I wonder? Please review!**

**AllThatIWant x**


	6. Rules

**A/N: Hello! I am sorry for the rather large gap between chapters but I haven't really had time to write as it is now exam season here in rainy old England! It may also be awhile till the next update coz GCSE's. **

**I am also sorry about the slightly abrupt ending to this one, but if you could review and tell me if you want me to write more of the wedding or if I should start on the cases in season 2 I would really appreciate your ideas and opinions. **

**Also I was a bit drunk/hungover at some points whilst I wrote some of this, so sorry for that, but to be fair I don't drink very often. **

**Sorry long Authers note, any way, Sherlock is not mine, Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6: Rules

Amelia and Sherlock have rules to make living with one another permanently more...comfortable for both of them. They came into play after just a month and a half of the pairs seven months living together in 221B. Amelia's rules for Sherlock are rather simple:

If Sherlock wakes her up more than half an hour before is strictly necessary he must make her breakfast in bed and leave her alone for the 30 minutes or so it takes her to get showered and dressed. This happens two or three times a week, the only exceptions are if there is a truly pressing case her assistance is required on or if she has a visitor ( Mrs Hudson doesn't count).

Her second rule is that if any item in her possession gets ruined directly by Sherlock, a case or an experiment Sherlock must replace it. So far he has paid for; 5 pairs of shoes/boots, 2 pairs of heels, 3 pairs of jeans, a skirt suit and a set of strings for her Ukulele.

Sherlock also has rules for Amelia, although "Don't touch my skull" isn't really a rule. There's also the obvious "I don't leave the flat for anything less than a 7" that is often the cause for Amelia's second rule coming into play.

Then there's the smaller things, Sherlock now only uses an electric razor when shaving and is allowed to search Amelia's room for razors once a week, which he does every Monday without fail. If he does find one, Amelia has to participate in any and all experiments and undercover jobs Sherlock decides upon, and he can save them up for when he needs them. The undercover jobs can literally be anything, form a prostitute to his wife, AJ cannot complain. So far he has 5 saved up and has used 2. That's 7 razors, and, by Sherlock's count 16 cuts. 16 new scars Sherlock feels he is entirely responsible for.

Amelia also has to tell him whenever anyone says anything derogatory or just plain mean at work. His encounter with the blond bar maid chilled him to the bone, a fact which he hates because it proves to him beyond reasonable doubt that he does care about his redhead roommate. If he finds out about any discrimination from any other source, and he has many, she must buy dinner for the next week. Not that Sherlock eats much anyway.

The pair live and work by these rules. The rules keep them sane, slowly but surely Amelia is stopping for the first time in years and Sherlock is eating more than even when he lived with John because of how often Amelia must buy or be bought dinner. The rules work, so they stick to them or at least they stick to the consequences of breaking the rules.

* * *

Their rules make them more alike than ever, much the Donovan and Anderson's amusement. For instance when they were exiting the court house Lestrade handed Amelia her black Mac which she promptly swirled it out behind her and sweeping her arms into the sleeves, with a quick flick of her wrists she turned up her collar.

Little did AJ know that approaching her from behind was Sherlock Holmes, pulling on his coat and turning up his collar in an almost identical manner. "Miss Warner." Sherlock said with a curt nod as a greeting "Lestrade, Donovan, John, shall we?" He nodded again towards the door and offered Amelia his arm which she gladly took.

The three stood as the detective and the pianist exited the building barely containing their giggles, the pair were so similar and they didn't even know it. When they finally picked their chins up of off the ground they followed them, only to be greeted by Anderson.

Anderson was lent against a police car with his arms folded across his chest, his stupid chin jutting out with stupid and unwarranted pride. "Lestrade!" He called as the group of five made their way through the paparazzi in the same formation as they had when entering the looming building.

They approached Anderson, Sherlock's dislike for the man was obvious from the upturn of his nose and the way he stood as far from him as the group, and Amelia would allow. "Sir, we have to get to The Yard." Anderson blundered before actually looking around the group.

Then his eyes paused on AJ, who had let go of Sherlock's arm and was fiddling with the silver A hanging from a chain around her neck. "And who might this lovely lady be?" Anderson asked, leering down at the short red head.

"Amelia-Jay Warner, Sherlock's roommate. Is your wife away for long Anderson?" She asked disgusted at his unashamed glance at her chest. Sherlock smirked and his eyes shone with pride at his roommates deductions.

"Who have you been talking to? What have you been saying freak!" Anderson spat after a moment to regain his composure. Amelia simply smiled "Sherlock told me nothing, however you told me everything. First of wedding band, second Sally clearly got laid last night and you are wearing the same deodorant, thirdly any one clearly married but staring so blatantly at my chest in such a public place mustn't be worried about the said wife finding out. Ergo your wife is out of town. Plus she told you she was going out of town for a week last week whilst I was waitressing for you, dumbass." Then she turned and thanked each of her escorts in turn before dragging Sherlock to the car Mycroft kindly sent for them, all before Anderson could pick his chin up from the ground.

In the car Sherlock grins like a Cheshire Cat all the way back to Baker Street. Once they return he immediately begins to play AJ's song on his violin.

* * *

A month later

"I've changed my mind. I'm not going, weddings are dull." Sherlock declared whilst lying across the couch in his PJs and second best dressing gown (Amelia stole his best dressing gown) just 30 minutes before the pair were due to leave for the countryside hotel the wedding was going to happen in the very next day.

"Tough! We promised, plus you're the best man! You have to be there for John!" AJ shouted from Sherlock's bedroom where she was currently packing Sherlock's suitcase as he was far too lazy and adamant that he would not be attending to do it himself. "Urrgghh Dull!" Sherlock yelled back, rolling of the couch and stepping over the coffee table to the window where he picked up his prized violin and began to play.

"No, nope. Not today Sherly. Not gonna happen. Get dressed." Amelia plucked the bow from between Sherlock's skilled figures and pointed it in the direction of his bedroom. Sherlock pouted like a sullen child whose babysitter had sent them to bed JUST as that program they NEEDED to watch came on. "And cut the crap you big baby! I am NOT your mother, nor am I your babysitter!" She yelled after him.

* * *

An hour and a half later the pair arrived at the local train station, Amelia with a large, battered, leather guitar case in one hand and a pink suitcase in the other and a black leather satchel over her shoulder, and Sherlock with a small black case in one hand and his reward cigarette dangling between two fingers of the other.

Amelia bribed him with the said (low tar) fag to A) get on the train and B) behave like a responsible grown up whilst they were on the train. If he behaved at the wedding he would get a second.

John was waiting patiently outside the train station so when the pair exited and Sherlock immediately lit up John was naturally a little angry and confused, he had spent a long time trying to stop Sherlock's smoking and had been largely successful. "What, Sherlock, no. We talked about this, AJ, why is he smoking again?" John said, rather than the conventional hello as he plucked the cigarette Sherlock had taken two blissful drags from, from Sherlock's lips and stamped in out.

"HAY! Amelia he took my reward." Sherlock moaned, pouting at the girl on his right, who merely shrugged in response and began to walk towards John's hire car, followed by the sulking detective and the flustered doctor. "What do you mean reward? AJ, what does he mean reward?" John demanded as he marched after the duo.

"Someone decided he didn't want to come this morning and the weddings, trains and best man speeches are all boring" Amelia started before her raven haired flatmate interjected "Because they are!" Whilst still sulking and lifting his and AJ's luggage into the boot of the blue car. "Any way, I bribed him with low tar cigarettes, chocolate didn't work." Amelia finished with a shrug as she climbed into the back seat of the car. "Hello Sarah!" She called to the blond woman in the front seat.

As soon as John and Sherlock had entered the car Sarah began to drive them to the beautiful hotel she and her mother had picked for the wedding, John's opinion was taken and then promptly ignored unless he agreed with the formidable pair. "But really AJ, cigarettes?" John asked, twisting round to look at her whilst she answered.

"Well I made sure he waited to light up once we were outside the station and I could see you coming. I knew he would get two maybe three drags at most before you stole it from him." She stated calmly whist rummaging through her bag and tossing Sherlock a box of nicotine patches.

The consulting detective quickly caught the box before it hit him in the face and slapped a patch on his right arm. Amelia then turned to Sarah and the woman began an animated discussion on first dance music and centre pieces.

* * *

The next day

"Sherlock, are you dressed? I'm coming in!" Amelia shouted, fiddling with the short hemline of her pastel pink 60's mini dress with one hand as she unlocked the door and pushed it open with the other.

She found him sat in his black suit and white shirt flopped on the sofa, hands folded beneath his chin. His eyes flitted to her, swept over her straitened hair and the pink Alice band keeping it from her face, the shortness of the dress, white cardigan and ballet pumps before they returned to the wall.

"Sherlock." She warned, he sighed and stood string over to his suit case and pulling out a black tie and buttoning up the top two buttons on his shirt. Carefully he thread the silken material through the collar and tied a messy knot, reminiscent of a school boy's.

Amelia sighed "Come here you idiot." She pulled the knot undone and tied it neatly as her father had taught her she then clipped on the tie pin given to him after one of his cases before they had met.

"Now go meet John!" She pushed him out the door and followed him to Johns room, knocking for him and then making herself scarce.

* * *

Once she returned to her room she found a very fanatic Lucy – Sarah's sister and maid of honour– pacing in front of her hotel room in a stunning high waisted white dress with a golden yellow sash and sweet heart neckline wringing her hands worriedly.

"Amelia-Jay!" She cried when she noticed the red head even though they had never met. "Umm.. yes? It's Lucy right? And it's just AJ, can I help you?" Amelia said in confusion, what was this young women doing pacing outside her room when she should be with her sister.

"Sarah needs you, she'll explain everything." The blond grabbed AJ's left forearm and dragging her along the corridor, causing her to wince.

When they reached the brides room Lucy barraged in shouting "I got her Sarah!" before flopping down in front of the hair stylist who promptly began to tug the blond ringlets into a lose bun decorated with little daisy hair clips.

Sarah ran into the room in her off-white Grecian style dress, hair still un-styled and make-up half done "AJ! Thank god, you brought your guitar didn't you? Please say you did." She was clutching her stomach and tugging at her hair, desperation shone from her eyes.

"Yeeess...? I was planning on going busking tomorrow before we leave, why?" Amelia's brows knotted together unsure where she was going with this. "Oh thank you god! Can you play 'Make you feel my love', the Bob Dylan version?"

"Yep." Amelia replied, popping the 'P' still unsure what Sarah was asking. "Can you play it today. For the first dance? The musician we hired and paid in advance has called in sick, he's not coming. We need something. Please?"

"Of course, I'm going to go practice then, I haven't played it for a while. Can you get a sound check sorted? I don't want to fuck this up for you guys." Just as Amelia was about to leave Sarah ran and hugged her "Thank you, oh thank you so so much you have no idea."

Amelia pulled back and smiled slightly "Careful, don't want to wrinkle that lovely dress."

* * *

Whilst the the rest of the guests were enjoying the frankly delouses spread provided by the newly wedded couple Amelia was eating a cold chicken sandwich whilst a burly guy with a bold head and a impressive black beard fiddled around with her guitar trying to attach it to the speakers.

"There y'are love, try that for me." He said in a thick northern accent, handing her the intranet she played the opening bars to the Watson's chosen first dance song. When the notes echoed beautifully through the strategically placed speakers dotted around the large ballroom the bearded tec-man began to shorten the mic stand so AJ could play and sing at her small 5ft 1/2".

Soon the ballroom was swimming with people some dancing to the DJ's music, others talking and mingling throughout the room, in the corner sat one sulky detective with raven curls and a cynical frown.

AJ took a deep breath and hesitantly strode to the mic at the end of what she was told was the last song on the DJ's mix before the first dance. As the track faded to a close Amelia wrapped a hand around the microphone.

"Umm... Hello Lady's and Gentlemen if you would like to make your way to the floor for the couples first dance. Umm... I am AJ and this is 'Make You Feel My Love, Mr and Mrs Watson everybody!" As the guests began to clap and cheer John took Sarah in his arms and began to guide her around the floor as the soft melody resonated around the room.

"When the rain is blowin' in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love." Amelia began to relax into the song.

Around halfway through the song Sherlock offered his hand to Lucy as was tradition and the pair joined the dance. Sarah and Lucy's mother and farther soon to joined the dance before Amelia sang the final verse.

"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

There's nothing that I would not do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love." Amelia opened her eyes for the first time since the first verse and the corners of her lips twitched upwards as the whole room stopped and applauded.

* * *

**A/N: thank you! Please review, it'll make my day! **

**AllThatIWant x**


	7. Corporate Responsibility

**A/N: Hello. Sorry about how long this took, I had exams for a couple of weeks so my time has been spent stressing over, I mean revising for, those. I know I said I was going to start series 2 now, but i lent out my DVD's and although I have found some transcripts online i would rather have the DVD's for my own interpretation of facial expressions and stuff. Thanks for your patience, I go on holiday soon so updates should become more frequent. After my holiday that is, my mum has banned laptops for it :( **

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. :(**

* * *

Chapter 7 – Corporate Responsibility

"I thought you'd be up there, dancing." Sherlock asked as her plopped down gracefully next to Amelia in a dark corner of the ballroom. She had her knees pull up to her chin and her long arms covered by white wool wrapped around.

"Nah, who'd want to dance with the girl in the long sleeves? Trust me, It's better to stay out of the way, away from the stares. It's easier." Amelia sighed and tightened her grip on her legs. "And you can't talk; you were sulking in a corner too!"

"Wrong. Come on Miss Warner, let's dance." Sherlock swiftly stood up and pulled Amelia to her feet with him. Slowly he began to twirl his petite roommate towards the center of the ballroom.

"I didn't know you danced Sherly." Amelia muttered into his suit jacket as he led her across the floor. "Mummy made Mycroft and I get lessons when we were younger, I thought I had deleted it but muscle memory still stands apparently." Sherlock replied, his voice almost resentful.

When the song drew to a close Amelia pulled from Sherlock's arms and smiled softly. "Thank you Sherlock. I'm going to get a drink."The porcelain skinned musician slowly walked away from her equally pale roommate.

"Diet coke, please." She sighed as the bartender pushed the can into her hand and gave her a slightly puzzled look at her long sleeves. It was 21 Decrease Celsius outside, the warmest day of the year so far and she was huddling up in a long sleeve cardigan.

* * *

Amelia left her half empty can on the bar and climbed the stairs up to her room. Tired, AJ flopped strait down onto the lavish double bed and curled into the fetal position, sobs racked through her chest as the usual nightmares commenced.

Three hours later Sherlock burst into her room, not bothering to knock, and roused Amelia from her terrorised sleep. "Amelia get up, we need to get back to London! We've got a potential serial killer, love those, always something to look forward to!" The raven haired detective yelled whilst running around her hotel suite grabbing her possessions and shoving them into the bright pink suitcase.

"Wha... Sherly? What time is it?" AJ rubbed her palms across her cheeks removing the snail trail of tears and black eye-make-up before pushing herself up against the ridicules number of pink fluffy pillows that adorned her bed.

Instead of answering her, Sherlock simply threw her some jeans, a jumper and some underwear, which hit her in the face. Amelia growled at him and grabbed the cloths before marching to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

"Ten minutes Amelia! We have a train and a serial killer to catch!" Sherlock shouted excitedly as he left the room to grab his own luggage.

Soon Amelia was showered and dressed, she contemplated tacking the time to apply some make-up but decided it wasn't worth infuriating Sherlock or, possibly, endangering lives for.

When she exited the small en-suite she noticed her case, guitar case and bag were missing, and a folded sheet of hotel stationary was placed atop her un-made bed.

Unfolding it, she read Sherlock's messy hand;

Hurry up Amelia.  
I'm in a taxi out the front.  
Don't take much longer, I'm bored and gagging for my reward cigarette  
SH

Sighing, the flame haired girl ran out the door, toiletry bag and dirty clothes in hand, and into the lift just as the doors were closing on a very drunk couple who looked to be only just getting in for the night and very frustrated at Amelia's interruption.

As soon as the doors opened on the grand lobby (the drunk couple having already departed) AJ began to run, throwing her door key at the night time receptionist and pushing through the revolving door.

She quickly spotted her roommate leaning against a cab and playing on his phone, texting whomever alerted him about the case. He looked up just as she reached the cab.

"Oh good, your here." He said before sliding into the back seat. Amelia opened the boot with a roll of her eyes and shoved the remainder of her belongings into her suitcase.

AJ pulled her straitened red hair into a messy ponytail, as she climbed into the car and closed the door with her foot. Before she could even do up her seat belt the driver pulled out of the taxi bay and headed for the train station.

* * *

An hour or so later the crime solving pair exited Baker Street Station pulling their luggage whilst Sherlock texted and smoked, completely content. Well until his petit roommate plucked the offending article from between his lips and took a long drag before crushing it beneath her blue Doc Martin boots.

"I really don't see why you like that so much, it's vile." She stated, grinning at the sour look on his face, once again he had only gotten two drags on the killing thing.

His mood, however, lifted when the returned to the flat to find D.I. Dimmock waiting outside with the crime scene photos and all the other case related information.

Even if Dimmock was an idiot.

Sherlock hurried them into the flat and began hounding Dimmock for details. The detective handed the consultant a large brown envelope containing crime scene photos from the two murders already committed in the hopes that Sherlock could prevent a third.

"Brilliant, who's on forensics?" The taller man asked as he began to blue tack the pictures from the first scene on one side of the mirror. "Anderson" the older man replied.

Sherlock sighed deeply, "Anderson won't work with me. Amelia will have to accompany me. Someone moved this body" He said all in one, exasperated breath.

"Will I? Wait... So who moved the body?" Amelia began to properly look at the grotesque, bloody and angry looking murder scene.

The picture in question was of a dark, dingy, rat infested back ally. Crammed between two over filled bins was a woman.

Her dark blue pin-striped skirt suit was coated in mud, blood and rubbish fallen from the bins. Her dark blonde hair was once rolled neatly in a bun at the nape of her neck, now it was a literal and figurative rats nest. The once tight bun was pulled out in odd angles tangling together with rat droppings.

Her crisp wight shirt was pulled from her pencil skirt and the collar was stained red with her blood, the silk stockings the adorned her legs were now ripped and laddered, her blazer torn and her heels broken.

The worst part by far was her neck. Along her tanned skin was a deep, wobbly cut. The blood from which was staining her shirt and the cause of her death.

"The incision , made by a surgical scalpel, in her throat was made at the start of the ally, see the minuet blood spots there," he tapped one of the pictures "then there's the scuff marks here, she was dragged backwards. But no blood trail. Therefore the killer covered the neck... Was there a bit of cloth, or a tissue at the scene?" Dimmock shock his head.

"So the killer took it with him... Interesting. Next... This woman put up a fight, look at her clothes. She was neat, did she have a bag? Phone? ID?" He turned to Amelia and Dimmock.

"Miss Hooper from St Barts has her personal affects. ID says she's Linda Garner, she's one of the CEO's of PSR limited- the insurance company. They recently branched out into personal surveillance. She had a bag as well, knocked under the bins probably in the struggle you mentioned." Dimmock said after glancing at his notebook at a page of note paper covered in spider like notes in short hand.

"You know short hand?" AJ asked after glancing at the page. Dimmock shrugged as Sherlock sighed "Irrelevant."

"The second was very similar, although he didn't put up as much of a fight. He was, I think, drugged. Chloroform, look at his nose, there's traces of it there. So the killer was injured by his first kill, so he learned fast and knocked out the next. See how much cleaner this cut is? Test all the blood from the first scene. I think Miss Garner may have been stronger than she looked. Molly has all the seconds things too I presume."

"Yes, uhh I'll get Anderson on that now. Second victim was Steven Dickinson, chairman of PSR's surveillance department." Dimmock glanced again at his notes before closing the book and returning it to his jacket pocket.

"Let's go AJ" the raven haired detective grabbed the red-head pianist right arm, carefully avoiding the scare littered left, and pulling her towards the door.

"You called me AJ!" Amelia smirked and grabbed her coat and camera from the sofa and coffee table respectively before allowing herself to be dragged out of the flat by the crook of her right elbow. Dimmock followed them from the flat and climbed into a squad car, calling forensics as he left.

* * *

15 minutes later the duo climbed from the back of a cab glancing up at the towering hospital before hurrying down to the morgue where the most patient pathologist in the wold was waiting with the bodies and personal effects of Linda Garner and Steven Dickinson.

"Hello Molly." The detective greeted coldly, throwing his signature coat and scarf onto the side. Amelia smiled warmly at the mousey pathologist as she slipped of her black leather jacket and placed it onto of Sherlock's.

"We need to see the bodies and personal effects of Steven Dickinson and Linda Garner." Sherlock said in a monotone, barely glancing at Molly as he played with his phone.

"Oh... Ummm... O-okay. Their stuff is over there and I'll get the body's out now" she stammered, gesturing towards a wheeled trolley covered with plastic evidence bags. Sherlock nodded to Amelia and she moved to the mettle trolley and began to rummage through the bags.

Meanwhile Sherlock and Molly went over the first bodies; Miss Linda Garner, 36, married no children. Having an affair with the milk man, according to Sherlock.

Amelia snapped on a pair of latex gloves and slipped a finger under the seal of a bag containing Garner's mobile phone. It was splatter with her blood and the screen was cracked slightly from where it had hit the mucky ground of the ally it's owner had died in.

With shaking hands and baited breath Amelia pressed the on button, barely daring to hope that, if it worked, anything she found on there would help. When the blackberry blinked into life AJ allowed herself a slight sigh of relief.

Whilst she waited for the phone to switch on fully she began to search through the dead woman's bag. Nothing of interest came up, just lipsticks, her purse and her ID card, until, when she reached the bottom of the Channel handbag she made a discovery.

"Sherlock! Look at this!" She held up the scrap of paper that appeared to be part of a legal document. It, however, was just the bottom half. Sherlock looked up from the body whose finger nails he was inspection with the magnifying glass he kept in his pocket.

"What is it Amelia?" He asked pushing past Molly to reach his roommate, grabbing the scrap from between her fingers and began to read over the print. Then he read it aloud.

"And I accept that all responsibility for any harm that may befall on me during this period lies with me and not with the company. I willingly agree to this in sound mind and body... Then it's signed by Miss Garner and a Mr Joseph Whitner. I think we need to find him, don't you Amelia? After we take a look at the second body that is. Miss Hooper." Sherlock gestured for Molly to unzip Dickinson's body bag.

As they looked over the second body, Sherlock confirming his chloroform idea, Amelia looked through Garner's phone and switched on Dickinson's phone. On both she found a series of surveillance footage and photos, sent form the same number to both of them.

Once Sherlock was done in the morgue and had texted Dimmock with his findings he dragged Amelia out, not bothering to thank or say goodbye to Molly and barely giving Amelia time to. "Rude." She slapped him on the arm as he shouted for a taxi.

Sherlock just glared at is flatmate and shrugged before climbing into a cab. With a sigh AJ followed him as Sherlock told the driver to take them to the victim's offices at PSR limited. They speed off and the pair sat in silence facing their windows and thinking about the case.

A tall glass building loomed over the pavement, throwing a gloomy shadow over the ant like people scurrying in front, barely daring to look up at the glass monster. Sherlock and AJ paused on the pathway, gazing up at the office building before pushing through the entrance where they met D.I. Dimmock and Sgt Donovan before continuing into the office block.

When they reached the reception desk they were escorted upstairs by a blond who strongly resembled the first victim. They entered the office of the man in charge of the whole company playing solitaire on his computer. Sherlock cleared his throat and the plump man looked up from his screen, blushing and closing the window, he motioned for the trio (Donovan waited outside the office) to take a seat.

The two men sat whilst Amelia hovered nervously behind them. At once Sherlock began to interrogate Mr Person about his dead employees, there jobs and the new surveillance department.

Ten minutes later they rejoined Sally and a secretary escorted them to Garner's office, they found similar footage to that on the phones on her computer.

Sherlock ordered Amelia to rummage through the desk drawers, something about Persons story just didn't sit right with him. Person had told them they simply followed and recorded cheating spouses and the like, but the footage they had found did not correspond with this.

From what they could identify of the people being followed, none where married or even in relationships. They led fairly normal (boring) lives, nothing of importance except they were all customers of PSR's for the same policy, their new life insurance policy (Sherlock hacked the system).

Once AJ had pulled everything she could from the bottom left hand drawer of Garner's desk she found a stapler had been glued to the bottom. Frowning, she pulled out the false bottom and found a stack of signed forms.

"Sherlock, come look at this." She shouted as the cold detective figured out the dead woman's password. "What." He snapped glancing down at her. Amelia waved the false bottom under his ever changing eyes, grabbing his attention with both hands.

"Ohh this is good. I'm not sure it's even legal, I think we have motive for our murders. Now we just need a suspect! To Dickinson's office I think." He stood and pulled his flatmate with him and out of the office onto the main floor where the real police were questioning the victim's colleagues.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, once this case is solved we will bring in series 2. Thanks you again for you patiance, I hope to hear from you in the reviews, they really motivate me. :)**

**AllThatIWant x **


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